not idea he was…entertaining guests, or we wouldn’t have just come in, is he in, Carlos?” she’s been caught off guard as much as I have, she has a faint hint of an American accent, and that’s when it hits me, they must be Carlos’s parents. Oh ground swallow me now, of all the ways to meet the parents, why does it have to happen in a state of undress that not even Carlos has seen me in yet! That’s got to be irony?
“I’ll just get him” I squeak, turning and running back upstairs, my promise to take it easy thrown with force out of the nearest window.
Bursting back into the room Carlos is just pulling on his trousers, “what the…”
“Your parents!” I pant, he bursts out laughing, “They saw you like that?” he asks.
“They saw me without the dress!” I cry dismayed, causing him to fall into hysterics, “It’s not funny!” I warn.
“No, of course not, I’ll go see to them” he says, struggling to keep a straight face.
“Just go” I push him towards the door as he coughs to cover another giggle.
Once he leaves I struggle into my dress, but I can’t bare going downstairs to face his parents again, so I wait, straining to hear what’s being said in my absence.
Carlos comes back in fifteen minutes later, considerably more composed than when he left, “they’ve gone” he assures me.
“I’m mortified” I complain.
“Its fine, they understand. If it helps I think they were more mortified than you, my dad was dumbstruck” the smile creeps back across his lips and I throw a pillow at him, now starting to giggle myself.
“I can’t believe your dad has seen me more naked than you have” I laugh.
“I hadn’t thought of it like that, I best have words with him” he says sweeping me into his arms, “so, other than flashing my parents, what do you want to do today?”
“Oh my god!” I laugh, dropping my head onto his chest.
We decide to go and check out some of the Mayan Ruins, I didn’t know there were any around here. I had done a little research before I came and it had seemed like I was smack bang in the middle of no-where.
Carlos is maintaining tight lips and refuses to give away any details of our day trip, it’s all very suspicious.
He calls ahead for a private car to drive us there, letting slip that our destination is only an hour away; I wrack my brains to try and recall the map I had poured over extensively at home, searching for any image from my memory that might provide a hint to the surprise, but I draw a blank.
We arrive out the front of the lobby to be met by a sparkling, silver Bentley. My jaw drops to the floor, “Wow” I gasp, I had no idea he had this kind of money.
“It’s a Flying Spur.” He tells me, as if the name would mean something to me, “just a company hired car, we use them to ferry the family and more exquisite guests around. We get a pretty good deal with them” he explains it away.
“Still, Wow!” I don’t care what he says, hired or not, it’s still lush.
As Carlos opens the door for me the chauffeur jumps out to close it, once he has slid in next to me.
You can smell the plush leather as soon as you enter; with veneer wood paneling throughout. It’s so spacious and comfy, I would be happy to just be driven round in this all day, rather than see the Ruins.
Outside we pass numerous tin shack villages, and roadside stalls littered with brightly coloured rugs and hammocks, contrasting against the barren scenery; away from the coast, it’s very dry and dusty, the hot sun scorching any life out of the ground. There are some trees and foliage in places, but I cannot fathom how it survives in this drought.
All too soon we turn off the main road, I start scanning our surroundings and notice a sign depicting ‘Fausto Vega Santander Airport’ I look towards Carlos who’s grinning inanely at me.
“The airport?”
“Yep” is his only reply, he is infuriating.
When we come to a standstill the chauffeur again jumps out and opens my door for me, offering his hand to assist me out. We are right out on the runway next to a small private plane.
“We have a share in this with some of the other Hotel owners around Mexico, but most of them hardly ever use